It's my body, damn it. Isn't it?
"Call when you get your period. Or if you don't have it fourteen days from today. We'll bring you in for a blood test."
Yay. No waiting for the second pink line. No more being tricked by those evil lying tests that keep telling me I'm pregnant just before or even after my period.
Day 13 comes. Day 13 goes. No period. I want to shout with excitement. I know it's too early. But I also know that if my period arrives, I'm heading for a date with a camera up my hoo. I'm not looking forward to that. In fact, I dread it. My head feels woozy just thinking about it.
Day 14 comes. I might be getting it. I feel like I might. But it doesn't come. No period. Night 14 comes... still no period. Too late to call the doctor for the blood test. Stop at the store, get another round of pregnancy tests. The name brand this time, no more store brand liars for this girl.
Negative.
But they know I ovulated, right? They told me so. 14 days. 14 days after ovulation you are either pregnant, or you have your period. Period. Right? Still no period. And a negative test. Back in limbo.
But I feel that my period is probably on its way. Sure enough, I wake up on Day 15 with it. Son of a bitch. I'm crushed. But also... terrified. I know what this means. The next step, the next round of tests I don't want to have.
"What if you refuse to have the test," Bestie asks.
I'm too much of a coward to call the office and tell them I have my period, let alone what happens if I don't want to have the test. I can refuse, I'm sure I can. It's my body, right? I control what happens to it.
But what if they tell me then we're stalled out. Then we don't proceed? Then they stop prescribing meds, and we stop? Can I live with that decision.
It's my body, sure. It's my choice, of course. If the alternative is stopping, is giving up, then no, really, it isn't a choice.
I've effectively been backed into a corner. Again.
With my comfort and my body on the line.
I schedule the damned test.
I talk to the doctor about it, and he assures me it's not as bad as the HSG test. That I am having a vagal response to things, and that it's relatively common. Yeah, Doc, I know all this. That doesn't mean I can tell my body to STFU and behave. That's what I've been telling it for years. It hasn't worked yet.
"45 seconds," he says. "I've done literally hundreds of these. I'll be done in 45 seconds."
I can handle 45 seconds.
I think.
I hope.
Time will tell.
Yay. No waiting for the second pink line. No more being tricked by those evil lying tests that keep telling me I'm pregnant just before or even after my period.
Day 13 comes. Day 13 goes. No period. I want to shout with excitement. I know it's too early. But I also know that if my period arrives, I'm heading for a date with a camera up my hoo. I'm not looking forward to that. In fact, I dread it. My head feels woozy just thinking about it.
Day 14 comes. I might be getting it. I feel like I might. But it doesn't come. No period. Night 14 comes... still no period. Too late to call the doctor for the blood test. Stop at the store, get another round of pregnancy tests. The name brand this time, no more store brand liars for this girl.
Negative.
But they know I ovulated, right? They told me so. 14 days. 14 days after ovulation you are either pregnant, or you have your period. Period. Right? Still no period. And a negative test. Back in limbo.
But I feel that my period is probably on its way. Sure enough, I wake up on Day 15 with it. Son of a bitch. I'm crushed. But also... terrified. I know what this means. The next step, the next round of tests I don't want to have.
"What if you refuse to have the test," Bestie asks.
I'm too much of a coward to call the office and tell them I have my period, let alone what happens if I don't want to have the test. I can refuse, I'm sure I can. It's my body, right? I control what happens to it.
But what if they tell me then we're stalled out. Then we don't proceed? Then they stop prescribing meds, and we stop? Can I live with that decision.
It's my body, sure. It's my choice, of course. If the alternative is stopping, is giving up, then no, really, it isn't a choice.
I've effectively been backed into a corner. Again.
With my comfort and my body on the line.
I schedule the damned test.
I talk to the doctor about it, and he assures me it's not as bad as the HSG test. That I am having a vagal response to things, and that it's relatively common. Yeah, Doc, I know all this. That doesn't mean I can tell my body to STFU and behave. That's what I've been telling it for years. It hasn't worked yet.
"45 seconds," he says. "I've done literally hundreds of these. I'll be done in 45 seconds."
I can handle 45 seconds.
I think.
I hope.
Time will tell.
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